


Beautiful Thorns

by trash_heap



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Beauty and the Beast AU, F/F, Slow Burn, no beta we die like men, referenced child loss, tags will definitely change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21562237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_heap/pseuds/trash_heap
Summary: “But he who dares not grasp the thorn/Should never crave the rose.” ― Anne Bronte
Relationships: Amanda/Original Chloe | RT600
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter One

Everyone down in the village knew of the Beast in the castle. They warned their children never to go near her, told them that the Beast would gobble them up if they were naughty. Men would tell rowdy stories in the pub of near misses with the fearsome creature. 

“She had a mane wilder than any lion, and tusks like a boar!” Yells one man to thunderous cheering.

“She stalks through the halls of her crumbling manor, growling at anything that moves.” Says the barmaid. 

“I heard she was cursed! By a witch!” Comes a screech by the door.

“The Beast was cursed alright! She’s a child killer!” A man slurs out.

“A child killer?” Someone murmurs.

“Don’t you know?” The first man says, “One day, her son says he wants to seek his fortune but his mother doesn’t like that so she murders him, keeps his bones stacked all nice and neat in his old bedroom, teeth marks and all.”

“Teeth marks?” A young woman dressed all in blue inquires.

“Bloodlust ain’t always metaphorical, you know.” He says.

“But how did she become a Beast?” Her tone is quietly curious rather than scared.

“A witch came seeking the boy, looking for her new apprentice. The Beast said he took ill but the witch knew better. She could smell the blood on the Beast’s breath and cursed her to live as neither man nor animal. Now, she stalks the decaying walls of her once decadent home, attacking anyone who comes close enough for a bite.” He finishes his story with a gulp of his tankard, punctuated by a burp.

As the pub begins a rousing chorus about the Beast’s fearsome qualities, the young woman pulls up her hood, leaves a gold piece to pay for her food and drink, and quietly ventures into the night. 

*

“Elijah?” Chloe calls as she opens the door of their meager home, pushing against the strong wind. “Are you home?” 

A thud and a curse from the direction of his workshop lead her to him. When she pushes through the curtain, she has to hold a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Elijah is covered in some kind of blue liquid and hopping on one leg while he holds one foot and groans. Metal limbs of different colors lay scattered below his work desk. He glares half-heartedly at her, but sighs as she bends to pick up the limbs. 

“Experiments aren’t going so well, Chloe. This arm,” he waves a copper colored forearm and hand, “overheated and exploded. The thirium - that’s what I’ve started calling the blue blood - startled me. So, I jumped. Which made me kick the desk, which made me drop all the limbs on my foot while trying to escape the boiling liquid.”

Chloe sets the mechanical arms gently back on the desk and pulls out a handkerchief which she hands to Elijah. “I’m sorry it hasn’t been working for you. Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” he says, squinting as he wipes his glasses with the proffered cloth, “Not unless you know how to breathe life into inanimate objects. You’re not hiding any witchy powers, are you?”

She laughs softly and takes the kerchief back, “Unfortunately not. If I did, perhaps you wouldn’t have to attend lectures and events so far from home to keep the roof over our heads. If I had magic, I could simply conjure our gold, and you would be the richest inventor since the wheel.”

“I don’t think they actually got paid for that, dear.” Elijah mutters distractedly as he turns back to his blueprints. 

“I’m going to bed. Please, don’t stay up all night again. You’re dreadful in the mornings when you’ve had no sleep.”

He waves her off, already making marks on his notes. As Chloe turns to leave, she misses his contemplative gaze on her back. Elijah eyes the mark on the back of her neck and considers his options.

*

The next morning, sunrise finds Elijah sitting on the front porch, bundled up against the cold. The thirium has slowly been evaporating off his clothing, and he holds his hands up in the bitter dawn to watch the last of it fade from his skin. His sigh puffs out in front of him, fogging his spectacles. Another failure. He’d wanted to make the next on his own. It was a fluke he’d run into that witch, a fluke she’d been powerful enough to help him. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. Elijah Kamski does not accept failure. If he has to resort to a deal, then so be it. Once he learns how the old witch had done it, he’ll be in business. He’ll never go hungry again and Chloe - Chloe will be fine.

The scent of fresh coffee wafts through the window, and Elijah knows that’s his queue. He yanks the door closed behind him and stomps the snow from his boots. Chloe doesn’t so much as jump. She’s become used to his moods. Chloe brings him a mug of coffee and a plate of eggs, and Elijah finally speaks.

“I have to go on a last minute supply run. I’ll be gone a few days, but should return in plenty of time to prepare for next month’s trade journey.”

Chloe’s smile flickers and her hand twitches, spilling the smallest drop of coffee onto her skin. She doesn’t flinch. “So soon? Surely you have enough to -”

“None of the arms or legs are usable anymore, Chloe.” He says, scraping his teeth on the tines of his fork with an angry bite, “The whole project is useless if it can’t even move.”

“I understand. I was just hoping for some more time together before you left.” She traces a swirl in the table’s wood with one delicate finger, “You know how lonely it gets out here alone. I hate it when you leave.”

Elijah sighs, “Well, perhaps this time I could arrange for you to come. We’ll say you’re my apprentice. No one will think twice.”

“Oh, Elijah, really? Thank you!” Her eyes light up and she launches herself out of her chair to hug his neck. “I’ll go pack right away!”

He watches her go, guilt bubbling up in his throat. Chloe is one of a kind; he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her. Sipping coffee to swallow his dread, Elijah sends a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that he doesn’t fail her.

Chloe is packed within the hour, smiling and rosy cheeked as she swings her suitcase on the porch. She’s doubled her layers and donned her best traveling cloak. Elijah can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. 

“Go ahead and load your things into the buggy. I’m going to pack a few more papers and we’ll leave.” He says, before ducking back into his workshop.

When he reemerges, Chloe is sitting in the front of the buggy, hands clasped in her lap and nearly vibrating with excitement. She’s never gone further than the town limits. Elijah climbs up beside her, tucking his satchel with his notes and their money between them. He considers telling Chloe not to get her hopes up too high. Travelling isn’t as exciting as it is in her books, after all. But he thinks better of it, knowing that this trip will be good for her. 

*

The journey is largely uneventful. About two hours into the woods, Chloe seems to realize that each tree is nearly the same as the last and retreats into a book to pass the time. Elijah, who is used to traveling the distance alone, settles into his thoughts. They don’t speak until nightfall when Chloe shuts her book. She rubs her eyes and yawns. Elijah only spares her a sideways glance, keeping his eyes on the path. He’s taken this journey over a hundred times but something isn’t right. The landscape looks...wrong. 

“Elijah?” Chloe asks, brow furrowing as she looks around, “Where are we? The plants are such odd colors here.”

Indeed, there are trees with bark in shades of gray and black, leaves a muted, dull green. The undergrowth creeping into the path sways noiselessly in the wind, showing small blue flowers in patches of moonlight. When he doesn’t reply, she draws her cloak closer to herself and tugs her cap tighter over her head. Her ears ring in the absence of sound: no animal noises, no shuffling, even the sound of the wind is absent. The only sound is coming from their cart, the horse, and their breathing. It’s unsettling. There’s something in the air, some sense of anticipation of something about to snap. 

A resounding  _ crack!  _ echoes through the wood and the whole buggy tips forward in a rush. A shimmer of light illuminates the path as Elijah and Chloe plummet toward the ground. Their horse whinnies in fear and kicks, still weighed down by the weight of what remains attached. Elijah tries to stumble to his feet to calm him, but the horse kicks in a violent bid for freedom. A rear hoof connects with Chloe’s head delivering a sickening crack and she falls limp. Elijah drops the reigns and scrambles toward her only to receive the same treatment once their horse finally gets himself free. As the world spins and goes black, he swears he can see a figure emerging from the underbrush, but then everything goes dark, and he knows no more.


	2. Chapter Two

Chloe first becomes aware of the throbbing in her temple. She can’t help the low groan that rattles her chest. Without opening her eyes, she brings a hand up to check for blood. When nothing is wet or broken, she cracks her eyes open, rubbing at them to clear her vision. The floor is hard stone, but there’s a warm fireplace nearby. As she sits up, she can see cobwebs decorating what must have been a lavish sitting room, once. The furniture is all broken or too decayed to hold weight, by the looks of it. 

Her memory begins to come back, and suddenly she’s afraid. The buggy breaking, the shimmering light, the horse, Elijah’s panicked shouts: it comes in pieces. It happened so fast. Chloe slowly pushes herself to her feet, squinting into the dark hallway visible at the far end of the room. She doesn’t know where she is, but the sinking feeling in her gut suggests she’s somewhere no one in the village wants to be. It doesn’t matter; she has to find Elijah. Swaying slightly, she eases toward the archway. The furniture and walls creak under her hands, untouched for God knows how long. Peering into the hallway reveals a much bigger building than she’d anticipated. Doors and archways litter the walls at random intervals, almost as if they’d sprung up on their own. 

Something sits heavy in the air, something almost palpable, that tells her to go left. She runs her hands over the doors she passes, feeling the wood grain. Chloe stops at every archway to peer into rooms, and what strange rooms they are. They’re all lit by moonlight, shining in through ruined curtains. There’s a ballroom, a bedroom with no door, a room scattered with toys, a room full of nothing but fireplaces and fainting couches, even a room where everything is upside down, sofas on the ceiling and paintings bottoms up. Something in her gut lurches at the last room. She steps into the topsy turvy sitting room and it clicks. It’s a replica of the room she woke up in. An odd pang of longing takes up quarter in her ribcage and she reluctantly returns to her search.

It feels like hours but must have been no more than thirty minutes before she sees light shining from an open door ahead. The never ending hallway does end, after all. Chloe walks faster, almost at a trot, to push the door open. As it bangs into the wall, her mind takes a moment to adjust to what she’s seeing. Yet another replica of the room where she woke up, but in this one, the lamps are lit, the furniture is good as new, and in the armchair sits -

“Elijah!” Chloe calls, breathless. 

He looks up and her heart plummets. His long hair is in disarray, his best clothes ripped, his spectacles cracked, and the left side of his head is covered in dried blood. “Chloe?”

“Oh, Elijah. Are you alright? What happened?” She perches herself on the arm of his chair, gently pulling his hair back into a low tie with a spare ribbon from her coat. 

“I don’t know. The buggy...broke. Something spooked the horse. He kicked you. I thought I saw something. Some _ one _ . But Chloe,” He says, reaching to still her hands from their examination of his head, “are  _ you  _ okay? The sound it made when the horse kicked you, I thought you were dead.”

Chloe pulls her own hair back to show him her unmarred skin. Elijah reaches out as if to check with his own hands, but pulls back. Instead, he nods, grimacing immediately and holding his head. “Do you know where we are?”

“I have a hunch.” He says, avoiding her eye. “I’m sorry I roped you into this. You would have been safer at home.”

“And then you would have been alone. I might have lost you and never known what happened.”

They sit in silence for a moment, staring into the fire. Chloe is reluctant to leave his side, even to sit on the sofa next to his chair. He’ll never say as much, but Elijah is grateful for the proximity. Both jump at the sound of approaching footsteps. Chloe jumps to her feet, shifting herself halfway in front of Elijah, shielding him. He tries to stand but huffs and sits down again as the world spins around him. He settles for a death grip on Chloe’s sleeve. As the footsteps come closer to the half open door, they sound heavier, bigger. Some shambling thing is coming for them. Chloe plants her feet a little firmer as the door begins to swing open.

As soon as their mysterious host is revealed, it becomes abundantly clear where they have ended up. The creature before them is barely recognizable as humanoid. Their skin is mottled brown and green scales like a reptile, their hair so long and wild it fans around their head from chin to forehead. Underneath the hair and the scales a human face is visible, calm brown eyes blinking dolefully at them. The creature straightens up to their full height, crosses their arms, and speaks in a strong voice.

“I see you have found each other. Good. I had worried the house might twist your path, but it seems your intentions are pure after all.”

“I -” Chloe tries to speak, tries to remember any kind of manners at all, but is at a total loss. 

“Thank you for allowing us to rest in your home.” Elijah says, finally standing but leaning heavily on Chloe’s shoulder. “Your kindness may have saved our lives.”

The creature snorts, “My ‘kindness’ isn’t doing many favors when it’s my fault you ended up here.”

“I don’t understand,” Chloe finally finds her voice, curiosity winning out over shock, as always. “How is it your fault? Our buggy broke.”

Those intelligent eyes turn on Chloe and she feels a surge of warmth at being their sole focus. Strange. “I may be cursed, but I still know my fair share of magic, girl. You two sounded the alarm, so to speak. Why you did is still a mystery to me. So, where were you going so late at night in the middle of the woods?”

“We were traveling to the city over the hills for a few supplies.” Elijah says. Something about the creature’s gaze makes his stomach lurch.

“What kind of supplies?”

“I’m an inventor. I wanted to collect things that could be useful in creating helpful instruments for my fellow man.”

“Instruments.” They say, eyes narrowing. They look from Elijah to Chloe as if they can see something beyond the surface. “Very well. You can stay for the night. But tomorrow, I want you gone.”

“Thank you,” Chloe cuts in before Elijah can say anything to ratchet up the tension, “We’re grateful for your hospitality...um?”

“I am the lady of this house, even if I no longer look the part. You may call me Amanda. Use whatever bedroom you wish. You will find whatever you need.”

Without waiting for a response, she turns and shuffles out the door, footsteps growing fainter and fainter as Chloe and Elijah stand rooted to the spot. When all other sounds but the crackling fire have faded away, Elijah breathes out a sigh of relief and wordlessly leads the way to find somewhere to sleep.


	3. Chapter Three

Chloe wakes from a restless sleep when the sun is shining brightly through the ruined curtains. She pulls herself out of bed and pads to the wide window, pulling her thick socks up as she goes. A heavy blanket of snow lies over the forest outside, and Amanda’s lawn is untouched, the snow without animal tracks of any kind. Beyond the yard is a tall fence made of stones. Not a single bird nor squirrel perches there. It’s as if the animals know to keep away. Turning back to the room, she looks over Elijah, still sleeping peacefully.

She’d woken up multiple times in the night, terrified that he’d stop breathing while she slept. He rolls over as she watches, snorting in his sleep. That’s as sure a sign as any that he’s feeling better. Chloe had often checked in to see if Elijah was getting any sleep over the years by waiting outside the workshop to listen for his snoring. Though, she wagers that the fine beds here are a bit better than the cot he kept out there. Chloe is woman enough to admit that she’s curious about their host. She’s always had more curiosity than was good for her. “Curiosity killed the cat!” Elijah would playfully scold. “But satisfaction brought it back!” Chloe would call back.

She gives the fire a good stoke, adds another log, and begins to hunt for her boots. The night before, they’d been tossed somewhere near the fire to keep warm. Elijah had insisted they leave their shoes and winter layers to toast by the fire, drying them and getting them ready for their departure. But now, they’re nowhere to be found. Chloe returns to their bedroom door, but the ribbon she’d tied from the doorknob to the table next to it lay undisturbed. No one had entered their room. Remembering Amanda’s words about knowing some magic, she simply sighs and pockets her ribbon. Perhaps their host wanted to clean their things. Amanda may look like a monster, but she behaved like a human. Perhaps that’s not enough reason to trust her, but something in Chloe’s gut says it is.

Once she opens the bedroom door, she has to rub her eyes to make sure she’s seeing things correctly. The hallway from the night before has transformed into beautiful, gilded work of art. Fine silks drape along the walls and stunning paintings fill the spaces that were empty. There are no archways into strange rooms, no cracked doors. It isn’t endless, either. It’s shrunk to a normal size, or as normal as can be for a house as large as this. Chloe steps fully out of the bedroom, mouth slightly ajar. She barely takes two steps before Amanda is emerging from from a room several doors down. 

“Good morning. I trust you found all you needed, Miss -?” 

“Chloe! Y-yes, we did. Thank you. The room you provided was more than satisfactory. However -”

“Ah, before we discuss business, we must attend to breakfast.” Amanda’s dark eyes seem to sparkle for a moment, a glint of humor, before she visibly shutters her look and continues, “If you would wake your father, I will meet you in the dining room. Fourth door down the left.”

“Oh,” Chloe says, smiling at the familiar assumption, “Elijah isn’t my father.”

Amanda looks at her for a long moment, and Chloe gets the feeling she’s being scanned. Whatever the other woman sees must make sense to her because she nods, “I see. Not a father, then. My apologies.”

Chloe watches her shuffle away into the dining room, her footsteps somehow quieter than the night before. When she turns back to the bedroom, she finds the door closed.  _ Only a draft _ , she tells herself. Once she swings it open, she questions her eyes yet again. The bed is swathed in fine linens, bright and new. The whole curtains shield Elijah from the sun, whereas the former left a line of light across his chest. Even the carpet and the fireplace look good as new, both giving a cheery compliment to the beautifully polished wood walls. Chloe is pulled from her thoughts when Elijah stirs, groaning deep in his throat. 

“Chloe?” He calls, blinking blearily toward the door. “Did I fall asleep in my own bed this time?”

“Your bed doesn’t have silk sheets, Elijah.” She says, confusion forgotten for the moment. “We’re in Amanda’s home, remember? She took us in after our buggy overturned.”

“Ah, yes.” Elijah flops face first back into his pillow so his next words are muffled, “I knew I slept too well. There was no spring sticking in my back.”

Perching delicately on his side of the bed, she reaches out to pull back the curtain of hair obscuring his face. He blinks up at her with one eye as she looks for the injury from their horse. The blood had been dried up by the time they went to bed, and Chloe had helped sponge it away once they’d discovered their room did not come with a mirror. In the light of day, it appears much better than it had the night before. 

“I’m okay, dearest. I promise I would tell you if I wasn’t.”

She drops his hair back over his smiling face, huffing when he huffs it back off his face. “If you’re feeling so well, our host has requested us at breakfast.”

Elijah and Chloe retreat to either side of the screen panel provided for privacy to get ready for the day. When Chloe emerges, tightening her laces, she finds Elijah searching under the bed skirts.

“If you’re looking for our shoes, I haven’t found them. Nor our coats.”

“Really?” He asks as he stands, “Do you think she came to get them?”

“The ribbon was undisturbed, but I think she has more magic than she lets on. Did you notice that the room changed?”

His brow furrows as he looks around, “Changed? What do you mean?”

“Elijah,” She laughs, “When we went to bed, the room was on the verge of being ruined. Now, it’s perfect. The rest of the house is, too. The hallway looks like a whole new place, and I didn’t see any of the rooms I saw last night.”

“Are you feeling alright?” Elijah crosses the room, reaching to bring a hand to her forehead. “There was never any ruined furniture, or ruined rooms.”

Chloe slaps his hand away, annoyed that the joke is continuing. “That’s not funny!”

“I’m not trying to be funny! I’m sorry; I just don’t understand. Maybe that horse hit you harder than we thought?”

“I know what I saw.”

They stare at each other for a moment, Chloe glaring and Elijah looking puzzled. Finally, he nods once. “I believe you. Perhaps there is more than meets the eye, here.”

A knot in her chest loosens at that, and she breathes out slowly, releasing tension. They finish tidying the room and emerge to find a tantalizing scent filling the air. Following it to the aforementioned dining room, they find Amanda sitting at the head of a small table, an array of breakfast foods laid out before her.

“Come, come. Let’s eat before it goes cold.”

Chloe and Elijah nod in quiet thanks and sit, immediately tucking in with plates piled high. For a long while, no one speaks. The silence is only punctuated by the crackling fire in the corner and the sounds of cutlery on plates. When Elijah meets her eyes over the juice pitcher, Chloe voices a thought that’s been plaguing her.

“Ms. Amanda, why did you think Elijah was my father?”

Elijah’s fork scrapes across his plate as he misses the sausage he was aiming for. His shoulders are a solid, tense line as he stares pointedly down at his white-knuckled hand. Amanda slowly puts her own utensils down and folds her hands in her lap. 

“As I mentioned before, I know enough magic to keep myself safe. When you look like I do, it’s necessary for survival. So, I have wards on the house. You two were able to find each other quickly rather than staying separated. That could only happen if you mean me no harm. I assumed from the way you cared for each other, you were related. Or lovers.” When Chloe and Elijah both grimace, she chuckles. “I did not believe you were lovers, I assure you. But your bond is very close, much like a parent and child.”

“Elijah took me in. I don’t remember much of life before then. He’s taken care of me for so many years, and I’m happy to take care of him in return.”

Amanda is watching Elijah closely, scanning him as she did Chloe before, looking for something invisible to the naked eye. Elijah stares back, almost challenging. Something like understanding passes between them and both return to their meals in silence. After a moment, their host speaks again.

“I’m certainly glad you found each other. Having someone to care for is...important.”

The table falls once more into silence as they finish eating. Chloe feels a question bubbling up in the back of her throat but stamps down on it, hard. The villagers called her a beast, mocked her, told horrible stories. That image doesn’t match the woman she sees before her. Amanda isn’t the Beast, no matter what she looks like. She has proven to be a gracious host and exceedingly kind. Whatever happened to her, and her son, in the past is her business. Chloe has no right to inquire further. 

“Well,” Elijah says, patting his stomach as he leans back in his chair, “that was wonderful, Ms. Amanda. Thank you for taking us in for the night, and for the wonderful breakfast. If you could just point us to the direction of our coats and shoes, we will happily get out of your hair.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Amanda takes a sip of tea, not looking at her guests.

“What won’t?” Elijah asks.

“Your coats and shoes. You won’t need them. You won’t be leaving.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: Elijah suffers a sudden, short panic attack as the chapter begins.
> 
> CW/TW: Amanda talks about the loss of her child toward the end of the chapter.

Elijah feels ice slip through his veins, his heart dropping into his stomach. Amanda continues calmly sipping her tea, as if what she’s said isn’t unusual or frightening. He can feel his breathing start to shallow, his vision tunneling. A strange buzzing has filled his ears alongside the pounding of his own heart. Distantly he can hear a muffled voice, but he can’t tell who they’re talking to. Elijah tries to slow his breathing, staring down at his hands gripping wrinkles into his trousers. 

“Elijah? Stay with me, come on! I’m right here. Breathe.” Chloe is by his side, one hand resting on his forearm as she squats next to his chair. 

They breathe together for several long moments, the panic attack slowly fading into the background. By the time he’s breathing normally again, Chloe has moved to sit cross-legged on the floor by his side. He unclenches his hands, opening and closing them; the joints almost creak from the relieved tension. For a long time, there is only the sound of their breathing, but he can sense Amanda’s gaze. 

“I would apologize for my behavior, Lady Amanda,” he says, voice gaining strength even if he can’t look her in the eye, “however I feel that, of the three of us, you are the only one with something to apologize for.” 

“Oh?” She asks, leaning forward, her scales rustling against her dress. “You think so, do you? Then, might I ask a few questions? I feel if we cleared the air a little, I might be persuaded to change my mind.”

Elijah’s head snaps up, anger coursing through his veins, “We will not be interrogated or mocked by some arrogant -”

“Elijah, please.” Chloe tightens her grip on his arm and he deflates at her pleading look, “Let’s hear what she has to say. I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“Thank you, Chloe.” Amanda says, nodding her head graciously. Despite the inappropriate timing, she feels her heart jump. “If you would follow me into the sitting room, please.”

Amanda shuffles out into the hallway toward the other room, giving them a few moments to themselves. As soon as her fluffy hair is out of sight, Elijah snags Chloe by the hand.

“Listen, if she tries to keep us here, I will do everything I can to get you free. You can go call for help.”

“No! I won’t leave you!”

“Chloe, please! You’re fast and smart and not injured. I can hold her off if I have to.”

She feels her heart wrench painfully at that. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I don’t want you hurt.”

She pointedly doesn’t mention that she doesn’t want Amanda to be hurt, either. It seems like a bad idea to bring up her strange feelings since stepping foot in this house, and especially after meeting their host. Elijah believes her about the house being more than meets the eye, but she can’t imagine he’d believe her if she told him  _ Amanda _ is more than meets the eye. 

As they enter the drawing room from the night before, Elijah plants his feet, firmly refusing to sit. Chloe sits on the couch across from Amanda, avoiding eye contact. Amanda only watches Elijah clean his spectacles, maneuvering around the broken lens with ease.  _ I’ll have to make another appointment with the doctor when we return home _ , Chloe thinks on instinct. Elijah is forever breaking his spectacles, and always refuses to buy another pair as a backup. She shakes her head; that’s not important right now. What’s important is making sure they get home at all. Chloe can’t help but feel frustrated. Her mind never wanders this much, and especially not at crucial moments. Could the house be affecting this, too? Before she has time to ponder that dark line of thinking further, Amanda speaks.

“I suppose you’d like an in depth analysis of my reasoning for keeping you here. And reasons for which my wards would have attacked you, so to speak.”

“That would be a start, yes.” Elijah’s tone is clipped, patience running out the longer they’re trapped here.

“My wards are tied to two things, Elijah: intent to harm myself or any living being within my property, and any affiliation to the witch who cost me my son. As I have already said, I could sense no intent to harm me. Which leaves us with the second option. How might you be affiliated with the witch Zlatko Andronikov?”

While the name is unfamiliar, Chloe feels fear slip down her spine. Memories flicker at the edge of her mind. She reaches for them, but they trickle away like water. When she turns to look at Elijah, his jaw is tight, eyes trained on Amanda.

“I hardly see how that matters.”

“It matters a great deal to  _ me _ .” She says, venom seeping into her words. “That man is the reason my son is dead, and the reason I’ve become a creature to be mocked! If you are associated with him, I have a right to know who has been sniffing around my property!”

Amanda has risen from her seat in her anger, and a crackling energy has filled the room. Chloe can see the chills on Elijah’s arms where he’s rolled his sleeves up. She rises from her seat, intending to mediate.

“Elijah? I’m sure you -”

“Be quiet, Chloe.” 

His voice is quiet and low. Chloe stares at him, brows furrowed and mouth open. He’s never spoken to her like that before, never been anything less than gentle and patient. Her mouth snaps shut when he doesn’t even turn to look at her. Chloe shuffles her feet but does not retake her seat.

“You’ve heard the stories, I’m sure. Vicious, evil woman turned into a monstrous beast? Killed her only son? Zlatko spread his lies to avoid his sins, his embarrassment at being denied. Did he tell you what really happened? Did he tell you the price for his magic?”

Elijah takes a step back, cowed by her anger. As Amanda draws herself up to her full height, her intricate dress drags against her scales, her hair seeming to grow even fuller. Her next words are little more than a hiss.

“Zlatko cannot create life, no matter what lies he may tell. Magic isn’t as mystical as the common folk are lead to believe. There is push and pull. If one wants to push, something must be pulled. He came skulking around my wood, catching my son on his trips to town. Zlatko convinced him he could be a great witch, if only he were apprenticed. My son, young and eager to learn, agreed. When I refused to allow him to leave, Zlatko...pulled.”

Chloe feels her breath leave her in a rush, bowled over by this horrible new knowledge. Beside her, Elijah sinks into a crouch, hands over his head. She thinks she can hear a sniffle, but before she can do anything about it, Amanda drops into her armchair, no longer a picture of grace and sophistication. Chloe looks at her, but she seems to be watching Elijah closely, monitoring for something. Carefully, she sinks back to the couch, choosing to leave Elijah in his crouched position on the rug.

“Please, continue, Lady Amanda.”

“One moment, I’m holding my boy close, begging him to stay, the next, I’m holding his corpse.” Her head falls back to watch the ceiling as she speaks again. “Zlatko claims to be a great witch, you see. He can create new life, something only the gods themselves are meant to be capable of. But he needs a source for that life, something that equals it. That is the part he never tells you. When you buy life from Zlatko, someone else must pay the price. It’s been many years since I lost Connor, and I leave my wards active to ensure that no one else has to experience this tragedy, no matter how they mock me.”

“Your body,” Elijah croaks, voice thick with unshed tears, “What happened to your body?”

“A final punishment for interfering with his ‘business,’ as it were. A curse. If there’s a cure, I haven’t found it. Nor do I want to. It’s fitting that I become a monster who couldn’t save her own child.”

The room falls silent, except for Elijah’s quiet crying. Chloe can hear the patter of his tears dropping to the plush rug beneath them. She makes no move to comfort him, both in shock of Amanda’s story, and Elijah’s reaction to it. Amanda herself has not moved from her reclined position, the only part of her in motion are her fingers as they follow the pattern on the brocade of her chair. After several long moments, Elijah sits down fully on the floor and speaks.

“I’m sorry.” When Amanda moves to look at him, he meets her eyes. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know who he was. I was barely more than a boy myself. I’m so sorry.”

She blinks at him with two sets of eyelids; he cringes at the inhuman habit but does not turn away. Ever so slowly, she turns her eyes to Chloe. For a long while they watch each other, Chloe’s heart beating like a frantic bird in her rib cage with some unnamed emotion. 

“I understand.” Amanda finally says, standing slowly from her chair. “I hope you, too, understand.”

“I do.” Elijah hangs his head again, staring at the carpet.

“Then you see why you must stay.”

“I do.” 

Amanda sweeps past him, fine clothes rustling in the silence of the room. She pauses at the doorway and turns around.

“Chloe, you are free to go whenever you wish. You will find all your belongings in your bedroom.”

“You mean  _ we _ are free to go?”

“No.” Amanda’s eyes soften for a moment before she sighs, seeming to gather her resolve, “Elijah must stay.”

Chloe watches her go with a sinking feeling in her gut. She’s missing something, but she can’t fathom what. She calls his name, even tugs on his arm to try and move him, but Elijah stays where he is, never acknowledging her efforts. When she kneels down to cradle his face, his eyes are vacant, like a man being led to the gallows.


	5. Chapter Five

Chloe eventually convinces Elijah to stand, but he leans heavily against her as she guides them back to their room. The hallway has shifted again, new doors having shown up while they were in the other room. Once again, those open doorways are back, their doors hanging limply from their frames, their rooms nothing but darkness, dust, and cobwebs. 

“Elijah, can you see it now?”

“What?” He murmurs, still dazed.

“The rooms, look.”

He pauses to peer into one. Chloe watches as his head shifts slowly from side to side, taking everything in. This one is a bedroom: the bed broken, canopy collapsed, wardrobe warped, and curtains falling off the windows to show the veritable blizzard outside. Elijah reaches out a hand to swipe a finger across the door by the table. The path through the thick dust shows claw marks, as if a beast had gone on a rampage. The thought strikes Chloe and she steps into the room proper.

“What are you doing?”

“I think I know what this is.” She says, striding over time the window to draw the curtains back. 

Light floods the room, revealing slash marks on almost everything. The wallpaper curls to reveal the yellowing wall behind. Chloe runs a finger over it, smoothing it down to see the pattern. Stars on a navy sky. She turns to Elijah, feeling a deep ache in her chest she can’t quite describe. 

“There are five claw marks. On everything. They come in sets of five.”

Elijah winces, folds his arms as if to protect himself from this knowledge. “Amanda.”

Chloe nods, and continues her slow circle of the room. She and Elijah end up converging on the large set of bookcases surrounding the fireplace. The titles are all educational, instructional, or historical, but range wildly from “A History of Magical Convergence in Northern Europe and the Following Immigration South” to “Hippocratic Corpus.” The later she recognizes from Elijah’s own study. Just as she suspected, upon opening, this too is covered in hurried notes in every margin, pages of journals ripped and shoved in as placeholders and additional space. Flipping open to the page with the largest bookmark, Chloe snorts at what she finds. An oath and what seems to be a warning about “threefold” have both been crossed out and underneath, in a large, messy scrawl are the words, “Do no harm, but take no shit.”

Elijah blanches as he sees what she’s looking at, his eyes going far away again. Chloe quickly shuts the book and takes his arm again, “Why don’t you rest for a while?”

Once she finally steers him back to bed, he collapses like his strings have been cut. Chloe removes his spectacles and sets them aside before reaching to untie his hair tie.

“I’m fine, Chloe. Really. You should go.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” she says, voice definitively firmer than she feels, “Perhaps if you just told me what’s going on I could help. Amanda might-”

“You don’t need to know.” Elijah snaps, and immediately squeezes his eyes shut, curling his body into a tight ball. “Please, Chloe. Go. The house is yours, everything is yours. The will is in my bedside table and if anyone asks, you can tell them I’m dead. Please, you’ve got to leave.”

“I won’t leave you, Elijah.” She says, voice low and quiet. “I’m going to get us both out of here. I promise.”

When Elijah only shakes his head, making no further reply. She carefully pulls the blankets over him and shuts the door on her way out. Stopping outside the door, Chloe allows herself a moment to cry. Her hands pressed tightly over her mouth to keep herself quiet, she crouches there on the opulent rug and weeps. Hot tears stream down her face and plop audibly onto her dress. Breath hitching, she feels her head fog over. Her heart aches for Elijah and whatever dark secret he feels he must keep. Her heart aches for herself, scared and confused about everything that has happened. Her heart aches for Amanda, having her child stolen away, her life, being misconstrued as a beast because of her grief and a witch’s anger. She doesn’t know how long she stays there, quietly sobbing, only that by the time she stands, her eyes are puffy and her knees are sore. As she wipes her sleeve across her face to dry it, a voice comes from down the hall.

“Are you alright, Miss Chloe?”

“I don’t believe I am, Lady Amanda.” Chloe sniffs, trying to hide her startled jump by smoothing her skirts. “Today has been...overwhelming. And I do not understand much of it.”

Amanda cocks her head to one side, “I do not believe Elijah wants you to know everything.”

“And you?” She challenges, “Would you tell me everything?”

“You might not like what you hear. It may haunt you, the way my past haunts me.”

“So, you’re saying it has something to do with me?”

“Yes.” Amanda says, bluntly. Chloe blinks; she wasn’t expecting a straightforward answer.

“Then tell me.”

“I doubt Elijah would be happy if I did. What do you propose we do about that?”

“Send him home.” Chloe blurts, gaining confidence as Amanda’s eyebrows raise, “Send Elijah home instead of me. Let me take his place here. Please, he has so much more to give back to the world. And I’m...I’m just a silly girl who reads too many books.”

The silence is deafening, and Chloe’s heart nearly beats out of her chest as she refuses to break eye contact. Both sets of Amanda’s eyelids blink and Chloe wills herself not to flinch. If she can prove that she’d be a more appealing choice of prisoner, Elijah will be free.  _ He can finally change the world, the way he’s always wanted, _ she thinks,  _ without me hanging on his coattails.  _

“It is done.” Amanda says, finally.

“I’ll go tell-”

“There’s no need.”

“What?”

“He will wake up back in his own bed, with a letter describing our deal. He will not be able to find his way back to my home unless I allow it. You will be safe here, but in exchange, you can never leave.”

Chloe’s world shifts on its axis and her vision blurs as the seriousness of what she’s just agreed to sets in. She’s trapped in this house with a stranger for the rest of her life. She’ll never see Elijah again. There’s no escape. Amanda lays a scaly hand on her shoulder as she passes, long nails scraping against her blouse.

“And Chloe? You are  _ not _ just a silly girl.”

With that, Chloe is left alone. She stands there until she can no longer hear the shuffle-thud of Amanda’s heavy footsteps. The house creaks around her as the wind batters against it, and Chloe realizes she’s stumbled into something much bigger than herself.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short chapter this time, but now I can really shift into the parts of the story I'm excited about!

Chloe doesn’t see Amanda again for two days. Now that Elijah was gone and she was truly alone, she could feel the silence pressing in on her from all sides. The snow, still falling steadily outside, muffles the nature sounds that might have filtered through the windows. Only the wind and birdsong seem to reach the inside. She finds herself aching for human company, someone to talk to about  _ anything _ . It’s just before she starts screaming in the empty hallways to hear a human voice that Amanda appears again.

She’d taken to wandering into one room, into the hallway, and then into the next. Chloe found the difference between the destroyed rooms and the ornate hallways jarring, but couldn’t find it in herself to stop. There had to be a reason for everything, beyond whatever she’d learned so far. Elijah had reacted too strongly for there to be nothing else below the surface.

“What is it you seek, Chloe?” Amanda’s voice comes from the doorway of yet another destroyed room.

“Perhaps some company?” She cannot quite keep the frustration from her voice. “You gave me your word you would tell me what happened. How it concerns me.”

“Come, sit.” Amanda gestures toward a room across the hall.

Chloe takes her seat next to the fire in the same parlor she keeps seeing: ruined, upside down, whole, distorted. This one’s colors are inverted. The black fire burns itself into her eyes, even after she closes them. Amanda’s skirts swish quietly across the rug as she takes her seat. 

“This is where Connor died, you know.” Seeing Chloe’s head jerk up in confusion, she continues, “Not this room specifically. I don’t remember which is the real room, you see. I learned magic after his passing to keep others out, but I’m afraid I don’t have much control over it. It’s...latched on, to my grief. This parlor keeps showing up, over and over, always different. A constant reminder of why I’m here, and he’s not.”

“Amanda,” Chloe starts, but the other woman jerks her hands out of reach.

“Nevertheless, my mourning is not what you wished to know. Do you remember what I said about the witch Zlatko?”

“In order to make a life, he has to take one.”

“Yes, when he couldn’t take Connor’s life through manipulation, he used force. I can only assume this wasn’t his first murder, not if the resulting curse is any indicator. Something like this,” She gestures to herself, “takes talent and practice. It did leave me wondering what the push was, if Connor was his pull. Where did that life go?”

“But, what does that have to do with Elijah and me?”

“Your Elijah is an inventor. What does he make?”

“He’s made a great many advances in modern technology. Elijah is currently working on a prototype for an automaton. We were on our way to collect new parts and materials when we were...caught.”

“An automaton? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Amanda huffs, looking to the dark fire. 

“That is the commonly used term, I believe.”

“Give me your hand.”

“Excuse me?” Chloe pulls her hands into her chest, suddenly afraid of the intense look in Amanda’s eyes.

“You want to know the truth? Give me your hand.”

Reluctantly, she allows Amanda to rest her arm in her lap, palm up. Quicker than lightning, she slashes a sharp nail through the tender skin. Chloe gasps on instinct but Amanda holds her firm. After the initial shock, she realizes she can’t feel any pain. By the light of the fire, both women look down to see bronze shining through the cut.

“Elijah already has a prototype.” Amanda tugs Chloe closer, “Connor was the pull, you were the push.”


End file.
